


I don't want to forget how your voice sounds

by frooley



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: AU - Dance Dance Era, Bottom! Patrick, M/M, Patrick is the nerdy kid who enjoys listening, Pete is in the band, Porn With Plot, Strangers to Lovers, Top! Pete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-07-23 04:43:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frooley/pseuds/frooley
Summary: Being in a band is great, the fans, the love, the money. It all goes down hill when you inexplicably fall in love with one of your fans.





	1. the bad side of 20

**Author's Note:**

> this is just to ease my writers block :)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> (this is edited, thankfully and was beta read, the second chapter will be up shortly)

The cafeteria was packed, and Pete was never more excited in his life. High school kids of 5 varied age groups walked around, mingling and drinking ripe punch. He felt nostalgic about it all, not only was he playing at a High school, but the exact one he graduated from, and for some reason, it felt good to be back.   
  
Brendon, their band's lead singer, was warming up on stage, nerves causing his hands to shake. It wasn't like they hadn't played before, they have, with bigger crowds than this even. Pete supposed it was the fact that the boy himself went the very High school they stood in, and he didn't want to ruin his reputation with his peers. Pete could understand where he was coming from, yet everyone who attended the school were people he didn't know.    
  
"You guys play in five! Everyone's counting on you to make this homecoming good!" The principal, Mr. Mac-Keen, shouted from the bottom of the stage. He was uncertain with the whole thing still, ever since Joe suggested it to him during a committee discussion. Speaking of the curly headed kid, Pete noticed him tuning his guitar by the drums. At this time, he finally took in the atmosphere. Clammy, but cold. Students shouting for them to start while others laughed at their boldness, Pete shook his head and walked over to Joe.    
  
"Ready, man?" He asked the younger man, fingers lightly strumming the strings of his own instrument, an electric bass that he'd had for the past 3 years, the orange hue of the body slightly faded from overuse, but Pete didn't mind.   
  
"Yeah, dude! I invited one of my best friends, who originally didn't want to come tonight, but I convinced him. I'm sure you'll be able to find him since he probably won't be interacting with anyone, but I promised him that if he just watched us play, I would take him to taco bell after this." Joe grinned, eyes shifting to the crowd of pubescent adults and immediately pointed to a corner. The corner was by the food table, which now barely held anything on it, and there stood a bespectacled boy with slicked-back hair and sideburns, dressed in a gray suit and a red bow tie. Pete would have laughed if it wasn’t for the harsh jab of Joe’s guitar in his side. 

 

“Ouch! What was that for?!” Pete exclaimed through gritted teeth, adjusting his bass so he could reach the sore spot.

 

“I can read your mind, Wentz, and I know you’d rather enjoy this night than being basically deskinned because you chose to talk bad about someone.” Joe mused, his tone heavy with a threat, but his face stretched full with a grin. Pete gulped.

 

“Right, well, we begin in like 2 minutes, let’s get ready.”

 

____

 

The night was an absolute hit, everyone just about shit themselves at the sound of their music. The most popular hit was ‘Dance, Dance’, a side song they'd been working on for their official album that was in the making.

 

At that point a version of a mosh-pit started, and Mr. Mac-Keen wasn’t too happy about it, especially when the crowd had grabbed a bystander and forced them in middle, nearly crushing them, and caused them to fall multiple times. Pete knew immediately who it was as soon as he saw them fall the first time, glasses being knocked askew.

 

Joe nearly stopped strumming at the sight, but Mr. Mac-Keen stepped up, pulling the kid out of the crowd, and anyone could tell he was crying. 

 

“Oh goddamnit, Patrick’s mom’s going to  _ kill me _ .” Joe groaned out as they finished the song. Brendon concluded it was their last, it wasn’t, but the way Mr. Mac-Keen was glaring at them spoke otherwise.

 

_____

 

“That was ama _ zing! _ It couldn't have gone any better!” Brendon spoke happily, a wide grin on his face. It fell as soon as he met Joe’s eyes.

 

“You could say that, but Patrick was basically beaten up in front of us and we didn’t do anything!” He nearly shouted, and as if he was God himself,  _ Patrick  _ stumbled into the room.

 

“Joe!” He wheezed pathetically, but his face and body stance could explain why. “I want to go home!” 

 

Joe immediately looked guilty, standing to comfort Patrick in some way, but the boy wasn’t having any of it.

 

“You said it would be fun! I don’t know why I listened to you, I hurt  _ everywhere _ .” Patrick all but sobbed, weakly punching Joe’s chest. Pete noticed the blood that stained his suit, the crimson popping out wildly on the white of his button up, as well as makeshift bandages that covered parts of his face and hands.

 

“I don’t want your excuses, nor do I want stupid taco bell! Take me home, please, Joe.” Patrick pleaded once more, leaning into the taller boy. Joe sighed and gathered Patrick in his arms, face creasing with worry as Patrick drew in a sharp breath at the contact.

 

“Wait, aren’t you homecoming king, Patrick?” Brendon questioned, but he didn’t expect to get a response of sobs.

 

“It was- th- they pranked me, it was a joke. I’ve had enough of today.” Patrick spoke weakly, and Pete, who was just planning on listening to the conversation, felt a pang of  _ something  _ in his chest. He could relate to the kid, his High school years were no different and something told him to express to Patrick that he wasn’t alone.

 

Before he could though, Joe spoke up;

 

“Let’s go then, I just wanted to prolong your mother beating my ass twelve ways to Tuesday a little longer.” This drew a laugh out of the shorter boy, though it was more of a nasally giggle, it made Pete  _ smile, _ for some reason.

 

“Yeah, my mom’s so gonna kill you. It’ll make up for all of this though.” Patrick smiled and pulled away from Joe. The duo left with faint goodbyes and Brendon quirked an eyebrow at him.

 

“What?” Pete asked, clearly not understand what the younger boy’s look meant.

 

“ _ What?  _ Seriously, it’s disgusting enough to watch Joe be protective over him, but fuck, I almost puked when I saw how you were looking at him.” Brendon faked gagged to demonstrate. Pete just blinked,  _ what did that mean?  _ “Not to mention the fact that you’re in your twenties and Patrick’s 18 dude!”

 

“What do you mean? Do you have something against him?” Pete questioned, not quite sure to word his questions. “And I  _ am  _ 20, and even if you’re implying what I think you are, 2 years isn’t a big difference.”

 

“No! God, I love Patrick to death, but I just don’t like how people treat him sometimes ya know? The kid’s bullied on a constant, so I understand where Joe’s coming from, but you? You just met him! You didn’t even speak a word to him, and you’re already making googly eyes at him. I don’t even think he knows you exist, my man.” Brendon elaborated, grabbing a water bottle off the table before adding sarcastically. “And 2 years is a big difference, in the eyes of God.” 

 

Pete scoffed playfully and felt himself deflate a bit, cursing at himself and wishing he could maintain his emotions better. It wasn’t like he liked the kid, did he? He didn’t know,  _ goddamnit. _

 

_____

 

Within the next week, it seemed, Patrick was better. The swelling in his face had gone down but the coloring was still prominent. Purple and blue hues dusting his pale skin like his freckles. 

 

Joe, on the other hand, wasn’t any better. Kevin, Patrick’s brother, gave him a good talking to, with his fist more than anything. The curly haired boy understood, even though he got a chance to explain himself.

 

The two sat with Brendon and his friend, Dallon, during open lunch when Pete walked up to them. The four blinked up at him in surprise, not expecting the graduate to be on campus  _ during  _ school hours. 

 

“Hey, guys- oh Jesus, Joe, nice shiner you got there buddy.” Pete greeted him, laughing when Joe sneered at him in response. 

 

“Yeah, you should have seen it two days ago.” Joe retorted, poking at his taco that he got from taco bell. Patrick just laughed, patting his friend on the shoulder.

 

“Who’s this, Joe? Does he play in your band?” Dallon asked, the taller man peering questioning eyes at Pete. The bassist offered a hand before Joe could respond. 

 

“I’m Pete, and yeah I play in the band.” The two shook hands and exchanged confident smiles. As they pulled away, another hand was aimed at Pete, and the brunet took it without a second thought. 

 

“I’m Patrick, I’m sure you heard about me somewhat,” Patrick muttered as if ashamed, and something akin to heartburn ignited in Pete’s chest. 

 

“I’m super sorry about what happened if that’s what you’re referring to. You didn’t deserve that.” Pete offered a soft smile, hoping it would ease Patrick in some way. Patrick's eyes seemed to brighten at his words, and his lips curved into a small smile. 

 

“It’s alright, Joe made it up to me already. It wasn’t any of your guys' fault.” Patrick told him, leaning his head on Joe’s shoulder.

 

As soon as their hands fleeted, Pete felt cold. It was if Patrick was grounding him, or maybe taking him to a higher plane, he didn’t know.

 

He just knew he needed him.


	2. breakfast club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh, finally an update! this has been sitting in my google docs folder for a good couple of weeks and i finally got to reworking it!
> 
> and i would like to thank, for the hundredth time, @laudanumcafe for beta reading and helping me out. (as well as another fellow on tumblr but im not sure if they have an account on here)
> 
> anyways, let the reading begin!

 

The next couple of weeks were a mess; with the band getting a surprising invitation to play at a local cafe. How their name got out since the school dance, they did not know. They were more than happy to accept it though, recognition was great for small bands,  _ small businesses  _ really. 

 

Heading in blindly, they agreed to the earliest show they were being offered,  _ which _ happened to be tomorrow night. Nervously, but extremely excited, they practiced ‘til their fingers couldn’t play anymore and Brendon was out of breath. The smell of teenage sweat and Doritos was one to linger in Pete’s basement, not that it was any worse than the smell of damp water and an overworked water-heater that stained his senses the minute he stepped into the room. He smiled contently as he lounged on the small, dirty, brown ‘couch’ that made itself home in the middle of the room. Joe turned to him, curly hair drafting a musky, but not unpleasant smell, and smiled widely. 

 

“I just remembered, man, Patrick works at the cafe we’re playing at! And I think he works tomorrow; if not, I’ll definitely bring him along.” His eyes grew wide but not as wide as Pete’s. It seemed like they were close to bulging out of his skull, and they just might’ve, had Andy not pitched into the conversation. 

 

“Dude, Pete! You okay? Man, I know that this is nerve-wracking, but you look like you gonna pass out!” the bearded man gave him a pat on the back, watching as Pete tried to compose himself.

 

“I’m fine, just got cold feet, I suppose.” He laughed, a small, curt noise from the back of his throat. It wasn’t  _ cold feet _ , it was more sweaty palms and giggles if you wanted to label it anything. He hadn’t seen Patrick since the incident at the dance happened, in all reality, aside from the luncheon. He didn’t know what was entirely happening to him, but he supposed it was what people commonly label  _ a ‘crush’ _ . Pete was no fool when it came to relationships, but  _ crushes  _ and  _ love _ were way out of his territory. He didn’t even know if Patrick liked him back, or was even interested in men. From what it seemed like, if he did like guys, Joe was who he’d go after first.

 

He shut his eyes and tried not to ponder on it anymore.

 

_____

 

Pete expected blaring music, sweaty bodies, and the smell of alcohol. He should’ve checked his thoughts though, no  _ cafe _ would allow such behavior.  _ Unless… _

 

“Wentz! Get your ass over here, we go up in like, 5 minutes!” Brendon, the everloving son of a bitch he was, yelled from the backstage. Pete just shouted back an ‘I’m coming!’ and swallowed his pride. Not like it was much use for him anyways. His eyes inadvertently searched for red-blond hair and a pair of shocking blue eyes, but the butterflies in his stomach quickly settled as no signs came up. He sighed, defeated, and walked backstage. Unknowingly watched by a timid barista, with those  _ shocking blue eyes _ .

 

_____

 

They played splendidly, and the crowd seemed to agree as well. Cheers of ‘ _ Fall Out Boy! _ ’ echoed through the small cafe interior, and it filled the boys with adrenaline and excitement. They bowed in acknowledgment and hurried off stage to the back, where damp, cold towels and water bottles sat waiting for them. They all shared comments on how well one another played and relaxed against the small sofa and chairs placed specifically for the bands that played there. 

 

A knock drew the quartet’s attention away from the conversation, if you’d call it that, and from behind the backstage door appeared a shy but familiar face.

 

_ Patrick. _

 

Pete’s breath caught in his throat as he stepped into the room fully, walking over to Joe and hugging him, the blur of him congratulating not only the curly haired man, but everyone in the room passed through Pete’s ears like air through a fan.  _ Patrick saw him-them play and enjoyed it. _

 

“Yo, Pete! You feeling okay there? Did you hit your head somehow?” Brendon’s voice cut through his inner commentary, his laugh short but concerned. Pete just shook his head and gave a weak smile, closing his eyes and leaning against the pleather couch. A hand, warm and soft, pressed against his forehead and for a moment he allowed it before a small cough drew his eyes open. Bright  _ blue _ , no,  _ green? _ eyes filled his vision, drawing him in and something warm settled in his chest.

 

“You don’t seem ill, maybe you’re just tired.” Patrick  _ giggled _ as he spoke, removing his hand from his forehead and moving to stand, Pete just noticed he had crouched in front of him.  _ God, this boy really made his heart beat.  _

 

“Hey Pat, you think we could throw a celebration party at your place? I think out of all of us, you’re the only one with a decent sized place, and you live by yourself.” Joe asked nonchalantly, throwing his arms behind his back as he waited for Patrick’s response.

 

“I- uh,” He looked around for a moment puzzled, and then sighed. “Sure, but don’t bring alcohol, I don’t want to clean up any mess you decide to leave when you’re drunk.”

 

Cheers were heard all around.

 

_____

 

The Stump residence was nothing Pete expected, it was a one-story house; painted a soft cream color with white trimming. Trees surrounded it and the sunset made everything surreal. Joe was the only one brave enough to knock on the door, it seemed, or maybe it was because everyone else had bags full of food and various party items. Either way, everyone was excited to celebrate their success, and more importantly, eat.

 

Patrick opened the door a moment later, still dressed in his work clothes, and greeted them with a soft smile. He stepped aside and let them in, shaking his head as Joe and Andy practically threw themselves on the couch, leaving Brendon to sit in on the floor in front of them. Pete gave them a frown; despite him being the eldest in the house, he was usually the one to create havoc, not Joe and especially not Andy. Brendon was a breed of his own, and Pete didn’t really keep up with his schemes as much as he cared about the kid. 

 

“Sorry about them, I mean, they are your  _ friends _ , it’s just-” 

 

“It’s okay, Pete. I’m used to the mess they make when they come over. With how often it happens, someone ought to.” He ends with a laugh, placing a gentle hand on the other's arm before leaving to the kitchen. 

 

Pete takes a moment to regain himself, and follows suit. Patrick was rummaging through the bags they brought and groaned loudly when he stumbled across a bottle with torn labeling. 

 

“I thought I told you guys not to bring alcohol! My parents are gonna be pissed!” Patrick shouted into the living room, then turning his attention to the bottle. “I don’t even know what's in this.” 

 

“Best not to find out, yeah?” Pete chuckled and took the bottle out of his hands. It wasn’t his, it was Brendon’s and god knows what the kid drinks. Setting it on the counter, he scoots closer to Patrick, only slightly, and watches him take out everything else from the bags.

 

“So, do you really live here by yourself? I mean, you’re in high school right? You can’t possibly afford this on your own.” Pete asks, his mouth moving faster than his thoughts.

 

“My parents help pay for it, they say that it’s a good way to show responsibility. But, yeah, I really do live alone. It isn’t that bad, though.” Patrick laughs, opening the fridge to grab sodas and other assortments of beverages. 

 

“Isn’t that contradicting though? Them helping you isn’t giving you the full experience.” Pete questions, opening a bag of chips, only to have them taken away by Patrick, who pours them in a large bowl instead.

 

“Yeah, I’ve told them that, but nonetheless they still insist.” Patrick smiles, handing the bowl to him. “Ready to celebrate?” 

 

“Oh, totally.” Pete grins back.

 

_____

 

‘Celebrating’ took a quite unfortunate turn. Brendon got ahold of his liquor and nearly drank the whole thing in the period of an hour, whilst Joe and Andy played games on Patrick’s PS2 and gorged themselves of various foods. Pete just kicked back on the couch, drinking Mtn. Dew and watching the situation unfold. Patrick only sighed and prayed Brendon would just pass out and  _ not  _ throw up. 

 

As soon as his prayer was mentally spoken, it seemed, it was thrown back at him in the form of Brendon puking all over the side of his couch. 

Patrick groaned loudly, once again, and got up, hauling a nearly unconscious Brendon out of the room and into a spare bedroom. Pete merely followed, wanting to help as much as possible. Patrick smiled wearily at him and went to the bathroom to fetch whatever cleaning supplies he could. 

 

The night grew darker but warmer. 

 

______

 

Everyone but Patrick and Pete were asleep; Joe and Andy had seemingly become too full and succumbed to sleep shortly after Brendon did. 

 

They sat in Patrick’s room and talked about whatever came to mind, staring at the ceiling with soft eyes.

 

“I enjoyed your show,” Patrick spoke softly, looking over at Pete. “both of them to be exact, you guys are the best local band I’ve found.” 

 

Pete smiles, eyes squinted and cheeks warm. “Seems like you’re our #1 fan, eh?” 

 

“Oh gosh, get over yourself. I bet there’s someone more in love with you guys than I am.” Patrick laughed, cheeks tinting red.

 

“Oh? You love us? Aw, Pattycakes.” Pete coos, placing his hands on his chest. Patrick scowls playfully and smacks his arm. 

 

“Whatever Wentz, and don’t call me that, you barely know me.” 

 

“I would love to though,” Pete says quietly, threading his fingers together on his chest. 

 

“Why? For all you know I could be crazy, or murderous.” Patrick raised his eyebrows at him, a fond smile on his face.

 

“I doubt it, from how Joe speaks about you, you’re practically a God.” Pete enthused, yet a frown dug into his lips. 

 

“Really? Joe’s high-headed though, he praises everyone he meets. If he likes them, of course.” Patrick muses.

 

“Oh.” 

 

“What?” Patrick queries.

 

“Nothing, well, I thought you guys had, I dunno, a thing for each other-” His words were cut off by boisterous laughter from Patrick, leaving him quite confused. 

 

Patrick wheezed before breathing deeply, he sat up and rummaged through his bedside drawer, pulling out an inhaler. He calms before using it, laying back down on the floor. 

 

“That, was the funniest thing I’ve heard all week,” Patrick states, smiling softly at Pete. “God no, Pete, Joe is like a brother to me, we’ve known each other since grade school. Plus I think he's got a thing for Andy, or maybe it was Marie. ‘M not sure.” 

 

“So, you don’t like him?” 

 

“No, gosh, I don’t think I could ever look at him like that,” Patrick said sincerely, tossing his inhaler back into the drawer. It bounced before landing on his bed. 

 

“Oh, understandable.” Pete cooed, not letting the overwhelming feeling of glee overcome his expressions.

 

“Why? What's with the sudden interest?” Patrick asked, turning on his side to face him. “Wait- you don’t like Joe, do you-”

 

“No, Patrick! Oh god.” Pete exclaimed as Patrick laughed. 

 

“I was joking! Geez, but seriously, why?” 

 

“I don’t know, take a good guess.”

 

There was a moment of silence as Patrick  _ actually  _ thought it over, and it made Pete queasy. He never meant for Patrick to find out like this, not on his bedroom floor with his friends passed out rooms away.

 

“Wait, do-do you, uh, like- me?” Patrick deadpanned stuttering over every word as his face grew hot.

 

Pete looked over at Patrick with hopes of similar feelings and nodded.

 

What he  _ didn’t  _ expect was for Patrick to pull him closer by the shirt and  _ kiss _ him. But Pete wasn’t complaining, not like he could anyway.

 

Patrick’s lips were soft and shook a little, but it was like Pete reached the peak of Mount. Everest. All oxygen was taken from him and he felt a little light-headed, but  _ so good. _

 

He didn’t take notice of what his hands were doing, only feeling warmth and soft,  _ so soft _ . Patrick panted against his mouth, soft, wet breaths as he wrapped his arms around Pete’s neck.

 

They pulled away, eventually, and collectively groaned at the string of saliva between their mouths.

 

“So, does this mean you like me too?” Pete asked after a moment, and smiled at the way Patrick rolled his eyes.

 

“Jesus, Pete, yes! You really are dumb sometimes.”

 

They both laughed, pulling themselves closer to one another. Pete pressed a kiss to Patrick's cheek, sighing contently and pressing his face into the crook of Patrick’s neck.

 

“Pete, I’m glad we confessed our feelings, but the floor is starting to become uncomfortable.” Patrick pressed, trying to wiggle out of his grip. “The bed is  _ much  _ comfier.”

 

“Mm, what are you implying, pattycakes?” Pete hummed, a smile curling his lips.

 

“Oh,  _ Jesus Peter! _ Take me on a date first!”

 

____

 

The following week left Pete a nervous wreck. They—he and Patrick—had told the group and eventually their parents, and were showered with support, and some sarcastic  _ ew _ ’s from Joe. 

 

But, what really got Pete sweating like a teenage boy on his first date was, well,  _ just that _ . Patrick finally agreed to let Pete take him out, and with a kiss and a hug, he was left figuring out what to do. This wasn’t technically their  _ first _ date, more like their fourth, but it was the first time Pete was taking on the planning role. 

 

He had spoken to everyone who he knew had dating experience and was unfortunately left with no ideas. He could call his mother, but he would never hear the end of it if he did. Instead, he did the next best thing.

 

“Hi, Patricia! It’s Pete, uhm, I was wondering if you could help me with something?” 

 

_ Patrick was going to kill him. _

  
  


____

  
  


When the day rolled around, Friday the 4th of January, it practically stared Pete down and made him plead for his life.

 

He spent all week listening and following everything Patrick’s mother said, even down to the color of the blanket.

 

It was a picnic, of sorts: Pete had purchased a portable movie projector and a few of Patrick’s films and planned the perfect place to have it at. 

 

When 7 pm rolled around, Pete felt like he was going to throw up, the butterflies in his stomach were relentless and it felt as if it would never end.

 

It all changed when he pulled up to Patrick place, knocked on the door and saw him for the first time that evening. Patrick was dressed in a maroon button-up with a black suit jacket over it, with black jeans and shiny black shoes. It was like everything slowed and Pete fell in love all over again. 

 

“Pete? Babe, you’re worrying me.” Patrick giggled nervously, wrapping his arms around Pete's waist in hopes of getting him to respond.

 

“You’re so fucking  _ beautiful. _ ” Pete finally spoke, grabbing Patrick’s face softly and placed a kiss on his lips. “I’m so glad your mine.”

 

“Mmm, me too, I don’t know how I scored such a handsome man, though.” Patrick chuckled, pulling their lips back together. 

 

“If we don’t leave, we’re gonna end up having a date here, Patrick.” Pete smiled, pulling Patrick to the car and opening the passenger door as soon as they parted. Patrick giggled once again, and got in. 

 

As soon as Pete got in, they were on their way. The place Pete chose was secluded, but it was one of his favorite places to be at. 

 

It was an old auditorium Pete used to hang out at when he was younger and every once in a while since then. It was indoors, thankfully, and absolutely surreal.

 

When they reached it, Patrick gave him a confused look before letting himself be lead inside. His expression changed almost immediately as he stepped into the building. Vines lingered amongst the walls and other little plants took home to the floor. The air was much crisper and  _ greener _ than Patrick has ever experienced. 

 

“Pete, how do you know about this place?” Patrick wondered, eyes roaming all around the room.

 

“It’s a secret of mine, love. I used to go here when I was younger, and so far no one else knows about it.” Pete explained, guiding him through the hallway and into where he had everything set up.

 

The projector was on standby, lighting up the wall with blue. Patrick gasped quietly at the sight, practically dragging Pete to it.

 

“You got a movie projector?! And ‘Sixteen Candles’? Oo! ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’!” Patrick exclaimed rummaging through the handful of movies Pete got, before turning to him. “Pete, I- I don’t know what to say, this is-”

 

“You don’t have to say anything, Patrick, I love you so much.” Pete stopped him, kneeling to sit by him. He pulled Patrick close and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Just tell me what you want to watch first.”

 

____

 

They ended up watching 2 and a half movies before it struck 12, and neither of them were tired. Blame the energy drinks and soda Pete brought.

 

A few moments later, as ‘The Breakfast Club’ progressed, Patrick became squeamish and rather bored. It wasn’t particularly his fault, who could sit through 3 movies all at once? 

 

Pete noticed his fidgeting and tightened the arm he had around his waist.

 

“Something wrong, baby?” Pete inquired, watching the younger man sigh. 

 

“I’m  _ bored _ , I mean this is amazing, but no one can possibly sit through all of these movies at once!” Patrick replied, throwing his arms above his head. Pete laughed, he understood and probably should have thought it through. Life  _ is  _ an ever-changing experience, is it not?

 

“Hmm, I didn’t bring anything else to do, mostly because I thought we’d head back over 2 hours ago,” Pete explained, moving to lay his head on Patrick's chest. “Maybe we could nap?”

 

“I’m not tired yet, Pete,” Patrick whined, a tone Pete had become accustomed to. A moment of serene silence passed before Patrick let out a choked noise. 

 

“Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz,” He looked down at Pete, his tone confident but his face red and slightly sweaty. “I need-no, I want  _ yo _ u to, uhm, gosh... Pete, come here.” 

 

Pete was only slightly confused but moved closer, coming face to face with Patrick. 

 

“I-” Patrick's voice seemed to leave him as he stared up at Pete, eyes wide and bright. “ _ Kiss me.”  _

 

Pete pressed their lips together, and like every vow ever spoken, kissed Patrick as passionately as he possibly could. This not only left Patrick flustered and weak in the knees, but very  _ aroused. _

 

Everything seemed to move slowly after that, every touch was like a shock of electricity and it drove them  _ insane _ . 

 

“Patrick, love, tell me,” Pete muttered against his lips. “How far do you want this to go?” 

 

Patrick looked at him with lidded eyes and let out a breath of contentment. 

 

“As far as you’re willing to go.” 

 

With that, Pete was all over him. Kisses were pressed into his neck, turning to scrapes of teeth that marked skin red. His hands carefully unbuttoned the maroon shirt, the stark contrast of the color against Patrick’s skin made Pete blush. Everything about Patrick was like a dream, a wondrous dream. 

 

“I know I say it a lot, but I really am glad you’re mine,” Pete spoke into the nook of Patrick’s neck, kissing it softly. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, too, Pete,” Patrick spoke softly. He dragged a hand over Pete’s dress shirt, unbuttoning as he went down, stopping at his belt buckle. He looks at Pete for the  _ go _ , only to find him doing the same thing, a hand placed right above his pant button. Patrick hardly noticed.

 

They shared a kiss in the form of agreement, pulling each other's pants off nearly at the same time.

 

“You know, I never thought my first time would be in an empty, abandoned auditorium while Breakfast Club played in the background.” Patrick resounds with a giggle, catching Pete off guard. 

 

He laughed hard, catching himself as he finished pulling off his pants. Clad in unbuttoned shirts and underwear, they smiled softly at one another. The mood was kind of spoiled by Patrick’s comment, but Pete wouldn’t make it take a bigger toll on what they had going. He leaned down and kissed Patrick’s chest, leaving a wet mark, trailing down his stomach with similar fashion. 

 

Patrick let out a soft noise, wringing his hands above his head. Pete relished in it, fingers toying with the band of Patrick’s boxer shorts. He pressed a soft kiss to the growing bulge before peering up at Patrick, who was an absolute mess  _ already _ . His face flushed a deep red and sweat covered it with a thin shine, and Pete was more than ready to see more. With a small, curt  _ ‘come on’ _ , the boxers were off and the sight nearly had Pete drooling. Pale,  _ so pale _ , skin flushed and round laid against maroon and the bright orange of the blanket, now darkened from their shadows and the night.

 

“P _ ete _ , please, do something,” Patrick pleaded, bringing his hands to Pete’s waist and tugging him closer, only to have Pete pull away. He whined, high and needy, shifting himself on the blanket every few seconds before stopping, looking at Pete with pure  _ need _ .

 

Pete, who was just watching Patrick throw his ‘fit’, only smiled before lowering his head between the younger mans legs. He pressed kisses to his inner thighs before biting sharply, causing Patrick to yelp. He hummed against his thigh as an apology, the vibrations causing Patrick’s hips to stutter. 

 

Turning his head, he kissed the tip of Patrick’s cock, flushed red and  _ leaking _ . And they hadn’t even done much.  _ It’s his first time _ , Pete reminded himself, figuring out what not to do and what to. He licked away the precome, closing his eyes at the sounds Patrick was making, high and airy, before wrapping his mouth around his cock. He pressed his hands on Patrick’s hips before slowly starting to move. Patrick wasn’t  _ huge _ , per say, but Pete still focused on trying not to choke himself, hallowing his cheeks every once and awhile. The surge of adrenaline he got from hearing Patrick  _ curse _ was amazing, he groaned low from the back of his throat without thinking, causing  _ more  _ strings of curses and pleas.

 

“I don’t want to come like this, P _ ete _ …” Patrick gasped out, before speaking quickly. “I mean, I would love to, just not  _ right now _ . Pete-” 

 

Pete smiled around his cock, before pulling off with a wet pop. Patrick looked like an absolute mess, to say the least. This made Pete swell with pride, oddly.

 

Tugging off his own underwear, he leaned down and kissed Patrick, dragging his hands up his sides gently. Once they pulled away, spit faced and all, Patrick moved to his right and grabbed his astray pants. He pulled out a small packet and a condom, smiling brightly up at Pete.

 

“Lube? I’m guessing it’s needed? As well as this?” He stated with a laugh, cowering slightly under Pete’s newfound stare. It was filled with passion, lust, and most importantly,  _ love _ . 

 

Taking the packet and condom out of Patrick’s hands, Pete kissed him once again and opened the packet blindly. He covered his fingers in the clear liquid, slowly trailing to Patrick’s ass and rubbing his fingers against his hole softly. Pressing a finger in, he kissed Patrick with a little more conviction to help him ease into the feeling. Patrick groaned against his mouth, clenching around the invading digit. As it progressed, Patrick eased, with help, and was soon pleading against his lips for  _ more _ . He obliged, pressing in a second finger, and before he knew it, a third. It wasn’t before Patrick started to wrap his legs around his waist and moaning loud enough for it to echo, that Pete pulled his fingers out. 

 

Patrick whined at the loss, but quickly moved to grab the condom, ripping it open and helping put it on. With what lube was left, Pete lubed himself over the rubber barrier and lined himself up. He gave Patrick a curious look, which was acknowledged with a soft ‘please’. Pressing in, he took it slow, despite how Patrick reacted, only filling him inch by inch, until he was pressed against him. 

 

He let out a low moan, stuffing his face into Patrick’s neck. It wasn’t long after that Patrick was pleading for him to move, pressing soft kisses into tan skin. He pulled out only a few inches, before rocking back in. This made Patrick moan, scream and groan all at once, his hands flying to Pete’s shoulders as the thrusts continued. Each one, unintentionally on Pete’s part, shook Patrick’s body, and the sight was breathtaking. 

 

The auditorium filled with moans of various pitches and the sound of skin on skin contact, and this definitely was going to be a night they would remember. 

 

____

 

As the month progressed, and as Fall Out Boy grew, Pete always knew he’d have at least one fan if all else failed, and they came in the form of Patrick Stump.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted this to be one chapter bUT NO I GUESS NOT. tune in sometime soon for more.
> 
>  
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr yo! @butteryyoungtraveler


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